


The War Is Over

by wolfraven80



Category: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfraven80/pseuds/wolfraven80
Summary: Though the war with Airyglyph is over, it doesn't follow that all is forgotten, let alone forgiven. During a ball to celebrate the upcoming marriage of Rozaria, the High Priestess's daughter, to the king of Ariyglyph, Nel and Clair stumble upon a plot that could disrupt the tentative peace.





	The War Is Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkcyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcyan/gifts).



> Darkcyan, Nel/Clair was one of the pairings I offered to write for Yuletide 2018. I got a different assignment but I did see your letter. Your experience with the game was so much like mine that I knew I had to write something once Yuletide was done. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> About a million years ago I played SO3 and loved Nel and Clair so much that I got up the nerve to create a ffnet account and post a story for the first time. It's been a while, though, so to remind myself I re-watched some footage from the game, which included Nel and Fayt's conversion with Rozaria, the High Priestess's daughter (excerpt below). I always thought that conversation made way more sense if it was about Clair.

 

**_Nel:_ ** _I've had to listen to the love stories of others until I practically learned them by heart. [...]_

**_Rozaria, High Priestess's Daughter:_ ** _Then you should have talked to me about it, Nel! I could have advised you in the matters of the heart._

**_Nel:_ ** _Listen to me, Rozaria. There's no one special in my life, so..._

**_Rozaria, High Priestess's Daughter:_ ** _Do not lie to me, Nel! Besides, everyone has been talking about it. You have been acting more lady-like of late. Perhaps you have fallen in love._ _Master Fayt, you must have noticed that Nel was in love. Let us give her some advice on the matters of the heart._

 

– _Star Ocean: Till the End of Time_

***

 

The runological lanterns dangling from the ceiling cast a warm glow over the guests, glinting off the jewels and polished buttons of their fine attire, and making the pale marble floor shine like moonlight. Nel's gaze swept the room, taking in the positions of the Airyglyph guests and of each of the Aquarian guards. It was a habit that she could no sooner give up than breathing. Even though Rozaria's fast-approaching wedding, the very reason for this soiree, meant their two countries would be formally allied, it didn't follow that all was forgotten, let alone forgiven.

            A foppish fellow in a hideously embroidered gold and teal overcoat took a few paces in her direction, smiling broadly. She glowered at him until he skittered away. If she'd been allowed to come in uniform surely no one would have bothered her, but instead Rozaria had insisted she attend as a regular guest, and since it was the especial wish of the High Priestess's daughter, Nel had had no choice but to don actual formal wear: a long tunic, slit down the sides to allow for ease of movement, with long sleeves so she could conceal a knife sheathe on each forearm.

            This would be Rozaria's last night in Aquaria. Tomorrow she would be escorted to Airyglyph where she would marry Lord Arzei, King Airyglyph XIII, the dashing stranger she had met all those years ago before the war. And though it was a political alliance, it was also a fairytale-like romance. One Nel had had to hear recounted far more times that she cared to count.

            Turning her attention to the Aquarian guests did little to improve her mood. Rozaria, it seemed, wasn't the only one in raptures about her fiancé. To her right, the newlywed Donsmends, beamed, fingers intertwined as they gossiped with other lords and ladies. Lady Anelli and Lady Francina gazed into each other's eyes as they waltzed to a traditional Aquarian ballad. Everyone is seemed was happily paired off like exotic creatures in a menagerie.

            "Honestly, Nel, you're making gargoyles look cheerful."

            Nel's baleful expression melted away. The nearby clusters of guests had parted for Clair, though their eyes lingered on her still. As did Nel's. Nel drank in the sight of her. Clair's gown was not so different from her runologist's uniform, dark and straight, but this one was low cut, showing off the pale skin of her shoulders, the delicate line of her collar bone, and the twining runological tattoos on each arm. Her hair was unbound, flowing down around her shoulders. A silver necklace with a single amethyst completed the ensemble. It took all of Nel's will to restrain the urge to reach out and brush her fingers across Clair's cheek as she would have if they'd been alone.

            Instead she only smiled. "You look lovely."

            "And you look miserable."

            As a line of staff carrying trays of refreshments shuffled past them, Clair made a show of scooting closer to Nel to make space for them. In the bustle, her fingers brushed against Nel's. Their gazes held for a moment, and Nel could see reflected in Clair's eyes her own regret. All these couples dancing and smiling and holding hands for all to see, while their love had to be bottled up, enjoyed in fleeting touches and stolen moments together. All because of the war. Because it had made Clair her commander.

            Nel sighed and crossed her arms. "You know I've never cared for courtly events."

            Clair's lips twitched. "I remember trying to coach you at dancing when we were younger."

            "Yes," Nel said with a chuckle. "As I recall I stepped on your feet quite a lot."

            Eyes gleaming with amusement, Clair reached out to squeeze Nel's arm. "You've improved since then."

            Would it cause a stir, she wondered, if she took Clair's hand and led her onto the dance floor? Many knew of, or at the very least, suspected their relationship. They had shared quarters whenever Nel was in Arias, but they had always kept things private, discreet, so that none could doubt Clair's leadership. Did the end of the war change anything?

            Nel held herself in check and only raised an eyebrow. "Now I'd only step on your feet a little."

            Clair's laughter was the first sound that night that Nel had been glad to hear. There had been little enough laughter during the war when Clair had carried the weight of commanding their frontline forces.

            "Now," Clair began, "promise me you're not going to spend the entire evening sulking in the corner."

            Nel drew herself up. "I am _not_ sulking."

            "Skulking then." Clair raised a hand to forestall any protests. "Some of the other runologists are here. You can talk to them at the very least. Rozaria is your friend. I'm sure she didn't ask you here just to see you unhappy."

            "Perhaps," Nel said slowly. "But she and I don't precisely agree on what makes for an enjoyable evening."

            "Well I don't think hand-to-hand combat is likely to be on the list of entertainments for tonight." And then, brow crinkling, "Unless my father shows up of course."

            Nel grimaced. "Let's hope he doesn't."

            As if on cue, a gentleman with a curling moustache and slicked back hair approached them and bowed. "Lady Clair, would you honour me with the next dance?" Nel stiffened, her face impassive even as she fought to smother a wave of outrage. The fellow looked up at Clair hopefully. "Lord Adray insisted that I offer if I ever found you in need of a dance partner and here I see you standing in a corner when there's music playing."

            When she spoke, Clair's voice was very, very calm. Only the slightest twitch of her brow betrayed it–to Nel anyway. "My father?" Oh she was furious. And if Adray were here at this moment there would be a scene.

            The fellow nodded. "Yes, Lord Adray was... adamant....that you not be left without a partner."

            Clair nodded once. "Why don't you tell me _exactly_ what he said."

            Beads of sweat had begun to prickle his face. "Of course, Lady Clair, I'll tell you whatever you wish but please let it be on the dance floor. Lest Lord Adray–"

            "Fine," Clair cut in. She shook her head. "He must have scared everyone stiff again." And then turning to Nel, "I'll be right back. No more skulking, all right?"

            Nel's lips thinned to a line. Clair gave her a pleading look, eyebrows raised, and finally Nel let out a long breath, shoulders slumping. She gave a curt nod and then watched as Clair followed the nervous fellow onto the dance floor.

            For some minutes she remained fixed in place, eyes following the dancers as they formed two lines, couples facing each other. The steps were simple enough: step to the left and return, step to the right and return, step away and back together. Why did it seem like for her and Clair they were always stepping away?

            She watched as the fellow clasped Clair's fingers in his, a touch that meant nothing to him. Nel had traced the lines of Clair's runological tattoos with her fingertips, pressed her lips to the throbbing pulse of her throat, felt the heat of her skin and every curve of her body. No one would have thought anything of it before the war.  But here and now she couldn't so much as hold her hand.

             When they'd been raw recruits, fresh out of training, they had been partners. Both skilled with runology and blades they'd been a perfect fighting team–quick, deadly, adaptable. They'd earned their titles as Crimson Blades together. People had called them the double-edged Crimson Blade. They'd fought back to back, shared bedrolls under the stars and seedy inn rooms in tiny towns where their missions had taken them. They had fretted over each other when one of them was injured, embraced after being apart, and held hands when off duty. No one had thought twice about it. The last time she'd held Clair's hand in front of others was when they'd walked through the ruins of the villages attacked by Airyglyph's Dragon Brigade, just before Clair had become commander of the Shield Legion.

            In all that destruction she'd been closer to Clair than she was now amid this gilt and glitter, as Clair continued to dance.

            At the climax of the tune, the fellow moved in close, placing his hand on Clair's waist to tip her backwards in a shallow dip. Bile rose in Nel's throat. She spun on her heel and made her way through the crowded room. There was no sense torturing herself this way. Tonight, after the ball, she would have Clair all to herself. If they couldn't stand together before their comrades and peers, it was a small enough sacrifice when it meant they could be together at day's end.

            Nel tried to follow the conversation of a cluster of runologists discussing Lady Elena's latest innovations, but her attention kept straying to the dance. It was impossible not to notice the stream of gentlemen asking Clair to dance. Adray had certainly worked his magic again. He was constantly trying to marry off Clair. Just a few weeks ago he'd offered Clair's hand as a prize to any runologist who could complete his workout. And then, when that had resulted in zero prospective husbands, he'd asked Fayt if perhaps he'd like to marry her. Fayt! Married to Clair! The idea would have turned Nel's stomach if it hadn't been so absurd.

            It was a relief when one of the guards approached her. Nel noted the insignia on his uniform–one of Rozaria's newly-assigned personal guards. "Lady Nel," he said with a salute. "Her ladyship wishes to see you."

            Nel nodded. "Of course. Is there anything the matter?"

            "Not that I'm aware of, ma'am."

            "Well then, lead on."

            He led her to one of the balconies overlooking the castle's inner courtyard. Here the garbled conversations of a hundred and one guests was muted, and the trickling sound of water from the fountain below rose to her grateful ears. Rozaria turned to greet her, smiling. Her habitual robes had been replaced by an elaborate gown of layered grey silk studded with pearls. Nel bowed.

            Rozaria grimaced. "There's no need for that."

            "Better get used to it," Nel said with a shrug. "The next time I see you you'll be the Queen of Airyglyph. Everyone will have to bow and curtsey whenever you walk into the room."

            "That _will_ take some getting used to."

            Nel crossed her arms. "Just a small sacrifice for true love." Her tone was as cutting as the daggers hidden in her wrist sheathes.

            Something flickered across Rozaria's features before being replaced by her usual mask of calm."You're still angry with me. I had hoped we could be on good terms before we parted."

            "I'm not angry," Nel said cooly.

            For a moment there was only the burbling water of the fountain. Rozaria smoothed out the folds in her gown and did not look up as she spoke. "I would never have talked to you about Arzei if I'd known it would pain you, but I wish you'd been honest with me. We've been friends for nearly as long as you and Clair, if not in the same manner."

            Nel's whole body snapped to attention. "What are you saying?"

            Her voice was barely louder than the trickling water. "You and Clair."

            The cool night air was a godsend on Nel's flushed face. "So when I introduced you to Fayt... you knew."

            "I would not have given you up to Master Fayt, though, I must admit, I was surprised he did not know."

            Nel huffed. "And why's that?"

            A giggle escaped Rozaria. "Nel, your relationship with Clair is the worst kept secret in the Aquarian army."

            If a Vendeeni ship had appeared in the sky at this very moment Nel could not have been more flabbergasted. "Clair is the commander of our forces." Her voice sounded unsteady even to her own ears. She stepped forward to lean on the balustrade overlooking the gardens, letting the cool stone sap the heat from her palms. "We can't..."

            Rozaria nodded. "I understand. But the war is over. My marriage to Arzei will guarantee the peace between out nations." When Nel did not speak, she went on. "There's no longer any need for pretense."

            A glint of metal in the courtyard below drew Nel's eyes. Her body went rigid. Someone was down there. Someone who shouldn't be. Her gaze swept the garden and its shadowed corners. A guard stood at attention at the far entrance, but the movement had been to one side where the walls and foliage could shroud an intruder.

            "Nel, listen. You must speak to–"

            "Rozaria," she said without moving, "go back inside. Now."

            "What is it?"

            Nel squinted into the darkness. "I thought I saw something."

            "I'll call the guards," Rozaria said.

            "No. I'll handle this. Quietly. Get Clair."

            The moment she heard the clatter of Rozaria's footsteps retreating back into the safety of the ballroom, she sprang over the balustrade, making the leap to the soft grass below and rolling with the impact. And then she was on her feet again, keeping to the shadows, but moving with all the speed and silence she had used when infiltrating Airyglyph. If this was an Airyglyph plot then she would put a stop to it and she would bring the evidence back to the queen.

            She crept low among the ornamental bushes, their branches like withered hands in the darkness. Stopping to listen, she could hear the rustle of fabric ahead and then, quite distinctly, the pant of rapid breathing.

            Nel unsheathed her daggers.

            "I know you're there!" a voice called out. "I'm armed!"

            Sinking low into the shadows, Nel cursed her formalwear, the pale swathes of fabric that would make her an easy target to a marksman with a crossbow. He was close, but not within striking distance. Still as water on a windless night, she waited. Her breath was slow and even, her hands, steady as they clutched the dagger hilts. She could shout for the guard but that would likely get him killed. Better to bide her time.

            "Come out! Or–or..." The voice was panicky now. There was a rustling from a clump of lilac ahead of her, a glint of metal... And then a white beam pulsed through the air with a high-pitch shriek. Nel rolled away, her veins filled with ice. A Vendeeni phase gun. Like that one that had wounded her. Fear shivered down her spine. That beam of light had only grazed her but its touch had been like a hot poker through her flesh. And she knew that if not for Fayt and his friends she would have died there in Krilsa.

            She rolled again as another beam tore through the night air. And another. The man took wild shots into the bushes. There wasn't time to use runology when he could launch one attack after another without pause. Nel made a mad dash across the garden and launched herself behind the fountain, ducking beneath its stone base just as another beam lanced the air behind her.

            No time to catch her breath. She summoned a bolt of lightning, popping out of cover just long enough to launch it at her attacker's position. A yelp followed by a curse, but no death rattle and soon another deadly beam shot in her direction.

            By now the guard must have realized something strange was happening and sent for reinforcements. But they wouldn't know what they were facing. Vendeeni weapons were more deadly than anything but the strongest runological attacks. With a single shot he could take down several guards at once. No, she had to disarm him before lives were lost.

            Again, she called on runes of lightning, tossing a ball of sparking electricity in the direction of her attacker, but she couldn't properly aim from cover nor hope to follow up on her attack. But then a voice, clear and strong and blessedly familiar, cut through the night, "Ice daggers!"

            The air was filled with the crack of shattering ice. A yowl of pain followed. Nel seized her chance. She leaped from cover. At a glimpse she could see the shadowy form ahead and the Vendeeni weapon on the ground, encased in ice. But before she could cross the distance, his fingers danced through the air, drawing a rune. A wall of flame sprang to life in a wide arc, forcing Nel back. A runologist?

            They were under attack by one of their own.

            Her eyes flicked to the right. Clair. She was still in her gown, hands raised, prepared to cast a rune. Their gazes met and Clair's fingers flicked through the air tracing a circle. Nel nodded and began moving to the left as Clair edged to the right. This was a dance they knew well.

            "Surrender!" Clair called out, drawing the man's attention. "We'd prefer not to have to kill you."

            A fireball shot from his hands in reply. But Clair was ready, a rune already on her fingertips, summoning a shield of ice out of thin air.

            His momentary distraction had been enough. Finally within striking distance, Nel called on a rune of lightning to stagger him. He twisted, around and stumbled back. Nel leaped in, striking him across the temple. Stunned, he toppled to the ground. She seized his arms and pinned him before he could recover.

            Nel held a dagger to his throat. "Don't move," she snarled. Her eyes flicked up for a moment to find Clair approaching, her expression steely. This was not just her Clair, but Clair Lasbard, the captain of the Crimson Blades and commander of the Shield Legion.

            For a second Clair's eyes flitted from the runologist to Nel, sweeping over her. "Are you hurt?"

            "I'm fine. You took the long way around?"

            "You mean did I come through the door?" Clair replied with amusement. "Yes. And we should have a full team of guards here shortly." She paused for a beat and when she spoke again she was addressing their prisoner. "I know you. You're one of Lady Elena's subordinates."

            "That would explain how he got the weapon," Nel said. A handful of Vendeeni weapons had been recovered after the confrontation with them. Lady Elena and her team has been studying them to see what they could learn. The work was top secret, which meant this fellow was part of the research team. "And why no one questioned his presence here."

            Clair moved so that she was within the runologist's line of sight. "Who was your target?"

            The runologist's chest was heaving, his breath coming in pants. Nel kept her blade steady. "The wedding has to be stopped," he choked out.

            Nel's stomach lurched. "By murdering the guests? Or Rozaria?"

            "Airyglyph can't be trusted. We can't make peace with those monsters!"

            "That's not your decision," Clair snapped.

            "You don't understand!" The runologist's faced twisted into a knot of fury, his lips pulled back like a snarling dog's. Nel pressed the blade a little harder against his throat to remind him of his position. "They killed my brother at Arias, they–"

            "Of course we understand." Nel's voice was like ice. "They killed my father. But that weapon you had tonight–what do you think would happen if the people who created those things came back? They almost destroyed both our countries."

            The guards had finally arrived. Clair glanced their way and then back at the prisoner. "What you did tonight was foolish and it could've cost the lives of countless more Aquarian citizens."

            The guards saluted and Clair ordered them to take charge of the runologist, with special instructions on how to bind his hands to prevent him from using his runological gifts. It was exceptional for a runologist to be arrested and special precautions would have to be taken with him.

            They watched them march the runologist away and when they were alone again Nel forced her hands to release their steely grip on her daggers and return them to their sheathes. She wished there were still something for her to stab. "That fool's thrown away his life for nothing."

            "Nel," Clair whispered.

            Nel's guts were knotted into a tight wad as the runologist's words echoed in her mind. "How could he be so stupid to think we don't understand?" A growl of frustration poured out of her . "As if we could ever forget what Airyglyph did. As if–"

            " _Nel_." Clair said forcefully this time. She stepped closer and held Nel's face, her thumbs brushing over her cheeks as if wiping away invisible tears. She had done the same when Nel's father had been killed and the tears had been real. "I know," Clair said.

            Nel raised her eyes to Clair's, full of concern and understanding. The only person she could really let guard down around. "I'm glad you're here," Nel said simply.

            Clair threw her arms around Nel and hugged her tightly. "When Rozaria said you'd gone after an intruder alone..."

            "I'm sorry I worried you," she murmured into Clair's hair. All evening while she'd stood on the sidelines, this was what Nel had wanted, to be close to her, to feel her warmth, to breathe in the scent of her.

            "You could have waited for me," Clair chided. "You're always so reckless."

            Nel shook her head. "I had to act fast. I didn't want to put anyone else at risk."

            "Even so..." Clair sighed and drew away. "I suppose I thought that with the war at an end I'd have less cause to worry about you."

            Nel crossed her arms, a lopsided smile on her lips. "You didn't exactly stay out of harm's way yourself tonight."

            "True." Clair bowed her head in admission. She was smiling though, her eyes bright when she looked up. "It was good to be working as a team again though, wasn't it? Like our missions together when we were younger. I miss it." Clair's voice was little more than a whisper and Nel had to strain to hear her over the burbling fountain nearby. "Being by your side when you face danger."

            Not being left behind. The thing Clair wouldn't say, but that weighed on them both.

            Nel sighed, eyes downcast. "I knew it wouldn't last. You're too good a commander to be sent on frontline missions."

            "And you're too good at skulking," Clair returned, one eyebrow raised.

            Leaning in closer, Nel brushed a strand of Clair's long hair behind her shoulders, her fingers whispering over Clair's bare skin. "You didn't seem to mind all those times I skulked into your room."

            Clair chuckled. "It does have its uses." She scanned Nel up and down and brushed at a scuff on her sleeves and another on her side. "We should get back. Someone will have noticed our absence by now and we should keep this incident discreet." She reached up and plucked a twig out of Nel's hair.

            Nel huffed and began brushing off the folds of her tunic. "I doubt that most people's first thought will be that we were thwarting an assassination."

            "No, I suppose not," Clair said and even in the dimness she could see the blush creeping up Clair's cheeks.

            She made Nel turn and then smoothed down the back of her tunic, her hands moving slowly over Nel's shoulders and spine. Clair's hands could be as deadly as Nel's own, but their gentleness was like a balm, smoothing all the anger out of her along with the fabric's winkles. "Well?" Nel asked, spreading her arms. "Do I pass muster?"

            Clair smiled. "As much as you ever do, love." And then, after glancing up at the castle balconies to check that no one was looking out at the gardens, Clair kissed her.

            Nel pulled Clair tightly against her. She wanted to melt into her, to erase the distance that had separated them all evening, to make it so they could never be parted again. She wanted to stand here and kiss her no matter how many lords and ladies might line up on the balcony and see them. But Clair, sensible to the vulnerable position they were in, drew back, though she let her hands linger for a moment on Nel's cheeks, offering a regretful smile. "We need to report back to Rozaria."

 

#

 

In the interests of discretion, they sent a message asking Rozaria to meet them in a quiet room away from the ball. Her personal guard escorted her and stood watch at the door. Clair dipped into a curtsey and Nel bowed. This time Rozaria didn't comment on the formality. "I'm so glad you're both well. What happened?"

            "A runologist," Nel said, "still angry about the war. He wanted to disrupt the wedding."

            Rozaria blanched.

            "We're confident it was an isolated incident," Clair said with the tone she always used as commander, full of calm assurance. "But we'll make certain your personal guard is alerted and takes the necessary precautions."

            For a moment Rozaria stood very still, eyes squeezed shut. "This alliance will benefit both our nations. Even after everything that happened with the celestial ship, why can't they see that? The war is over."

            Nel shook her head. "Old wounds aren't so easily healed."

            "It will take time," Clair said. "And wisdom. His Majesty is fortunate he'll have your counsel and your affection both."

            Rozaria's pallor was replaced by a rosy blush. "Thank you, Lady Clair, for your kindness. And for you assistance tonight, thank you both."

            Clair bowed her head. "Think nothing of it."

            "It's our line of work," Nel added wryly.

            "Your work shouldn't interfere with your happiness any longer." Nel's spine stiffened but next to her, Clair only tilted her head as if mildly interested in what Rozaria was about to say. "I would see you happy before I leave, Nel. Speak to the queen. I know her mind on this matter and she will give you both her blessing."

            "The queen," Nel repeated, her thoughts swirling, her hands shaking from a potent mix of adrenalin... and mortification.

            Clair's lips twitched as she glanced at Nel, one eyebrow raised. And then Clair turned to Rozaria and bowed her head low. "Thank you."

            "I should get back," Rozaria murmured. Nel was still too dumbstruck to manage a proper response.

            As the echo of Rozaria's footsteps faded, Nel exhaled slowly and tried to gather her wits. "The war is over," she said finally, shaking her head. "Everyone keeps saying that but no one seems to really believe it."

            "Then perhaps we should act as if _we_ believe it."

            Nel looked up. "You think we should..." She took a breath, hands on her hips. "Go see the queen?"

            Clair's fingers touched her elbow and she looked up. "Do you trust Rozaria?"

            "I... Yes. I do."

            "In that case we should speak to the queen and ensure that we can be open without risking our commands." And then, lips twitching, "Unless you really do prefer skulking."

            Nel snorted but then she looked Clair in the eye and gave a curt nod. "Let's do it then. Tomorrow, after we've given our report about the incident." Her stomach fluttered as she spoke the words, but the smile that swept over Clair's features replaced trepidation with excitement.

            "You know," Clair said archly, "I think I still have a few dances left in me tonight." She nodded towards the door. "Shall we?"

            "Your father will finally have to stop lining up dance partners for you."

            Clair held out her hand to Nel. Nel took it and intertwined their fingers. "You're the only partner I need."

            Nel smiled. "I'll try not to tread on your feet too much."

            Their hands were still clasped when they returned to the ballroom. No sooner had they stepped through the doors than a young lord sprang up to meet them. "Lady Clair, would you do me the honour of–"

            "I've already reserved this dance for someone else," Clair said, squeezing Nel's fingers.

            Together they made their way through the crowds towards the dance floor. Heads turned. Murmurs followed them. Nel straightened her shoulders and held her head high. And though all her training had taught her stealth, had taught her how to go unnoticed, she was proud at this moment to draw the attention of the entire room. She would always be proud to walk in step with Clair.

            They reached the other dancers just as one jaunty tune ended and a waltz began. Nel placed a hand on Clair's waist and pulled her closer than was strictly necessary. They stepped, and spun, and turned together, and Nel couldn't keep the smile from her lips as she gazed into Clair's eyes. For so long they had danced around each other. Dancing together, for all to see, was everything she could want. After all, the war was over. And as Nel twirled her partner amid the glittering lords and ladies, she finally began to believe it herself.

 

**The End**


End file.
